Scratch your Back
by PrincessIxi
Summary: When back massages turn into something a little bit more. Slash, NearxMello


**Title **Scratch your Back

**Rating **R-16

**Category **Death Note

**Pairing **NearxMello ( more or less )

**Summary **When back massages turn into something a little bit more. Slash, NearxMello

**Author's Note **Ridiculously OC and PWP- I MAKE MYSELF SICK DAMNIT XD wuteva, it's slash, it dun have to make sense px this is my logic.

As much as I love Mello topping, it seems I can't write him badarse to save myself, if my previous DN fictions are anything to go by. Near has a mind of his own whenever I write him, waaah. I wrote the beginning of this fiction a few months ago, then forced myself to finish it some weeks ago.

If you were wondering, Mello escapes through the air vents, heh ( this will make sense after you read to the end )

**If you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours- **cliché, in which you do one to another, they will repay you in kind.

And I love you guys for faving, but I love reviews even more c:

**Disclaimer **I do not own Death Note, or scenes like this would have happened throughout the manga and anime.

* * *

If Near cares to do so, he could open his mouth and literally swallow the tension dripping in the air.

Every able gun in the room is out and pointing at either one person or the other. Fingers tight on the trigger. One gentle movement could set them off. The flickering monitors before Near's blank eyes show the room behind him, radioactive blue. He does not need to turn around to see the dull images of his loyal retainers and his oh so loyal rival- each one looking just as pissed as the next.

Near traces his bottom lip with a finger, eyes roaming sightlessly over the screen, then at the lap top and at his scattered piles of dices, cards and finger puppets. He plays with his hair in an act to drown Mello's voice out. He has little interested in what he has to say for himself this late in the game.

"Mello," he cuts him off mid rant, swivelling in his leather backed seat, body arranged in his preferred sitting style. This is his first time seeing his scars up close. Also being face to barrel with a gun. Neither evokes emotions out of him. His sterile gaze unnerves Mello, who is used to people fearing his tool of death. As always, whenever he's around Near, he is reverted back into a stumbling child. He feels foolish for even pointing the gun his way.

Near smiles.

"Rester, Gevanni, Lidner. I would like you to leave."

The predictable response follows.

"Near, he's pointing a _gun_ at you. He's a lose canon, I'm- _we're_- not leaving you alone with this man," Hal's maternal instincts flare into life, as she takes a step forwards, jabbing her own gun to make her point very clear. The cock of Mello's weapon freezes her. Near might not be frightened of the chunk of metal, but Hal is- frightened for him, of what might happen to him.

"I assure you he won't _do_ anything."

You can hear the silent snort of disbelief shared by everyone. Of Near's naivety. The lid of one eye lifts as Mello sends Near a silent message- a universal one- of _what the fuck_. A gloved hand slides into his ripped and still ash stained jacket. Everyone tenses and Rester snarls.

"Don't move, or we'll shoot damnit! You've been warned twice already, Mello. Near might trust you, but I _don't_."

"Rester its fine. It's only chocolate," Near sighs, turning back to his humming computer screens.

Near's assumption turns out to be correct.

". . . if we take the gun from his person, we'll leave," Hal tries to meet the young detective halfway. Near shakes his head, a sign of silent distress. He rubs at his tired eyes with the back of his knuckles, fingers curled around his ill fitted cuffs. Like a child.

"I would rather the gun stays."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Rester has had it. He's put up with a lot of crap over his years, and the white teenager has given him one too many grey hairs. He puffs up like a bird, almost forgetting that a dangerous ex gangster is among them. Mello quietly licks at his chocolate, letting the drama happen around him.

Near pivots his chair to face the man, fingers pressed together in a tower. Looking annoyed. "I am perfectly in my right mind," he says with icy countenance. Mello can't work out if he's jealous or thrilled. Even with his years of bugging Near's, he's never managed to succeed like the retainers have in pissing Near off. Then again. . . Near has never been the most _mature_ of characters. Not getting his way must be his strongest pet peeve. "I just want you to respect my wishes and also have faith that I know what I'm doing."

Funny how the words _respect _and _faith_ have a way of turning the tide of a situation.

Not without the grumbled complaint, the three of them leave the room. The sliding doors close with a hiss, and Near taps in the lock combination. Mello suspiciously eyes the glinting lens of a hidden camera. "They aren't programmed to record and save," Near says, without having to turn around and see what the problem is.

Mello nips off the soften block of chocolate he's been salivating over for the past minute, letting it dissolve on his tongue before he at last closes the distances between them. Talking to the back of a chair is not what he had in mind. "You're an idiot, Near," Mello says. "If you think you can trust me," while he talks, he slides the barrel of his gun into his pants.

"Don't feel like you have to put it away, Mello," Near smirks cheekily when Mello jumps and looks around, obviously seeking for cameras wired into his chair because not even Near has eyes in the back of his head. . . right?

"Oh," Mello spots his reflection in the multiple screens glowing at him. Right o then.

Just to the please the younger boy, Mello flicks the gun back out, putting a hand on the chair and spinning Near around to face him. He's disappointed to find no surprise, nor fear on his face. He leans down, touching the barrel of the gun to Near's temple, then like it's an absence finger, strokes the steel down his cheek and comes to rest under his chin. Near stops the roaming gun with his own fingertip. Identical black eyes narrow, Mello taking in the finger and what's resting snugly on it. ". . nnh, that is very creepy," the blonde says at last, trying hard to not think of the reasons behind why Near has a finger puppet of himself. Granted the. . mini Mello, for use of better name, is quite accurate. All that is missing is the scar.

"Don't flatter yourself to much," Near says with that obnoxious smile of his. "You have a scar," he observes finally. His eyes haven't set on Mello for years now. Older, having seen the real world at last, reflects on his face.

"I had it the last time I came here. Oh that's right- you didn't even bother to look me in the eyes then," a contemptuous snort is issued. "Fuck. Who do you think you are- always looking down on me?"

"Why are you here Mello? You got your photo. I even added the extra bonus of giving you Matt's number," Near sighs, wishing the man would simply get to the point and then leave him to work in peace. The bridge of Mello's nose crinkles as an almost growl rumbles up from his throat. He chokes it down with an obvious effort.

"How can you say that after I've taken the effort to come see you?" he laughs flippantly, striding away from Near, heels clicking on the clean tiles, and lifting his arms to add movement to his words. Near narrows his black eyes. The change in attitude is not expected. _What does he want?_ Whenever he's here, he always_ wants_ something. If it was any other way. . no. Mello simply doesn't work like that.

"Mello," Near voice holds a little warning to it.

"What? Can't I be nice for once?"

"I'm afraid the world might explode if that was to happen."

"_Fuck you!!_"

Well that didn't last long.

Oddly happy that Mello is back being red faced and bared teeth, Near turns his attention back to his laptop. The angry, spiky text frowns at him, making the young detective sigh softly. Normally work is enjoyable, but it feels like the Kira case has completely taken over his life as of late.

Before his fingers can touch the keyboard, he's suddenly being jerked away by the shoulders. The entire chair rolls backwards. "Hey-!" is about as far as annoyed exclamations get.

"You're doing it again."

Obviously, this is one of those scenarios when Near has been going around doing "X" on a daily bases, and clearly missed himself doing so. Patiently, he waits for elaboration.

"I mean- look. From the grape vine," _Hal_, Near helpfully fills in the blanks. "I've been told that you haven't left the building for weeks now."

"And I know you've been living under a _rock_ for the past four years, Mello, but Kira is trying to_ kill me_- going outside isn't on my to-do list," Near snaps, realising his touchy mood is brought on by sever lack of sleep.

"You moron, I bet you aren't even sleeping rig- hah! There, I knew it. Gods, do you even eat anymore?"

Experimentally, Mello prods Near's lips with the remains of his chocolate bar, like how a child might poke a carrot through the bars of a rabbit hutch.

Near glares up at Mello through his thick fringe, pushing the candy away from his mouth with an irritated huff. He wipes the smeared chocolate away with the back of his sleeve, like the sugar disgusts him. "This sudden caring doesn't become you."

"Caring? About you? Is that what you think?" Mello giggles at the very idea. "Are you even thinking about the case?" he wants to know, spiking Near's anger once again. How dare he! He lives and breathes for the case, how can he even question that? Mello's face softens slightly. "Yeah, well maybe you're thinking about it in the wrong way. If you stress your body out to much more you'll perform badly."

Near opens his mouth. Then closes it. It makes sense. His sleeping patterns are a nightmare, he very rarely eats and hasn't seen sunlight in years. But what _doesn't _make sense is why Mello is concerned about it. He would have thought Mello would be dancing for joy to learn his competition might be at a disadvantage. Unless, what, he's indirectly hinting he wants to work together? Or maybe he knows that he won't be the one to win the case for them both, and needs to have Near at top form. .

He keeps his thoughts to himself.

In a defeated gesture, Near sighs.

"Good. I know exactly what you need. Thought. . your chair is too high for it, could you sit on the ground?" suspicious at first, Near quietly obeys the man- at the end of the day he still trusts Mello- sliding off the swivel chair and crouching on the floor. "And onto your stomach."

Okay, this is heading south rather quickly.

"I think you should tell me what it is you're going to be doing, before I agree to that," he mumbles, averting his eyes as Mello lends forwards, holding his bar of chocolate between his teeth, arms behind as he wriggles out of his hoodie. He tosses it at Near, the fabric still holding the smell of soot and fire from the explosion all those weeks ago.

"Excuse me, Princess. Lie on that if you're going to be a fucking pussy about it," he sneers, earning himself another disgruntled look. "And I'm just going to give you a massage. No big deal."

And Near can't help but perk his ears up at that. Considering what they've just been discussing, anything to help his strained body out is more than welcome. Stretching out like a lazy cat, he doesn't need the hoodie for comfort as he is typically in this position whenever he plays with his armies of toys. Instead, he knots his hands around the jacket and rests his cheek on top.

Keeping one eye on Mello, he waits as next Mello takes his leather gloves off, the crucifix on his bracelet flashing in the harsh headquarter lights, then his gun and chocolate joins them on the ground about a foot away from them.

He can see that Mello is considering taking his boots off, then dismisses it, and more or less straddles Near's back, who immediately wriggles at the claustrophobic feeling. "I'm pretty sure you don't have to be on top of the client when giving massages."

Then stops caring when Mello puts a palm into the small of his back and rubs up, then pushes _down_. He stiffens on reflex, not one hundred percent happy with someone touching him, especially when in a position where he can't keep an eye on Mello at all times. "Jesus, relax," Mello mumbles into his ear, breath flighty and smelling of freshly eaten chocolate. Letting out his own shakey breath, Near forces his body to obey, and grudgingly appreciate Mello hands running up each bump in his spinal column, then fan out to his shoulder blades, rubbing between the joints and free up lactic acid that has stored up over years of being hunched over.

Near sighs quietly as endorphins are released, catching himself before his eyes drift shut. From the lost corners of his memory, he recalls an acclaimed scholar, Dowse saying how a stressed and disturbed mind can become relaxed and disponent after a massage- the thought of his mind working any less than sharp as a blade is unerving. He hears Mello grumble something about his shoulders being a mess, then about his pyjamas being in the way, but it'll be a cold day in hell when he takes his top off for Mello, before his hands move higher and guild roughly over the mentioned limbs. Near can imagine the annoyed expression Mello must be wearing with the obstacle of his over sized pyjamas, as he can feel them pull and bunch under his digging in thumbs.

As pointed out, Near can feel the state of his shoulders through the interrupted wide hand strokes, gliding over bumps of acid, fingers doubling back to knead out the stubborn knots. As Mello pinches none to gently, Near gives another wriggle. "Ah. . Mello," he grumbles, twisting his head to glare. Equally frustrated, Mello rudely pokes his tongue out at him, rubbing his thumbs in rhythmic circles on the knot. It's not relaxing at all. Niggles of pain burst over his shoulders as the knot grinds over his bones and into his joints. "Uumf. . thought you were supposed to be helping me."

"Obnoxious brat. . lack of oils and fabric in the way doesn't really- hm," Near does not like that _hm_. It's a _hm_ of sudden inspiration.

"What are you- gk."

Mello shoves his hands under his pyjama top, not exactly the warmest digits on god's planet. Now his hands are touching him directly, it's a different experience than with a soft barrier in the way. Rubbing back up his spine, it seems like the blonde is reacquainting himself with his bare back, going over each panel again, digging into each joint.

Near presses his face deep into the borrowed jacket, feeling his cheeks heat up despite himself. It really does feel good. From the rubbing friction, Mello's hands have gained warmth, as he presses his palms flat to either side of his lower spine, Near can feel his own skin heat up all around, spreading over him like rippling waves on the shore. "Aah."

The hands gliding back up to his shoulders. After being looked over once, the second go over isn't as awful. Gradually, Near can feel himself relaxing, shoulders unwinding . Fingers working at the bumps of spine leading to the base of his skull, Mello shifts his hands out from under his top, moving his fingers to Near's hair and rubbing like he is massaging shampoo into his curls. "Mm," as if his mind needs to be wrung out too, the Kira case slips gently away from his dominate thoughts.

Back down, slipping back under his shirt.

After an exceptionally sharp grind into the throbbing knot at the base of his neck, Near gives a sharp hiss of- it can only be described as painful pleasure. As much as it hurts, there is definitely a satisfying edge to the ball of acid being assaulted- until Near grunts in very real pain, half tempted to turn and throw Mello off, fuzzy feeling vanishing. "Sorry," sounding a little flustered- at not being able to smooth out the knot Near presumes- Mello ignores it and carries on for the time being.

It's funny. Whenever Mello touched him in the past, it was pinches and hits, very few times was it even close to affection. More than likely, Near wouldn't let anyone else touch him like this, nor feel as relaxed if it wasn't Mello's hard hands flushing out the pains in his limbs. Hmmm, Near can suddenly appreciate with cats and being petted.

The white haired body feels Mello shift slightly, fingers going further down his back, either side of his spin, then out to either of his ribcage. Naturally it irritates his skin, this being one of the more ticklish spots on a human body, and before he can rein his body into behaving, he squirms under Mello, shuddering in effort not to laugh. The blonde makes a small noise, having been caught off guard, fingers sliding off Near's back for a moment.

"Oh Mello, don't stop," Near groans happily, as if Mello has really rubbed at a vein in his forearm and injected him with drugs. So utterly relaxed now, he probably couldn't move if he tried. As feared, it's slightly unnerving at how sluggish his thought process has become. Right now he isn't complaining. Thoughts of the case, his worries and stress are just fading away.

The silence stretches, Near getting a niggling feeling that Mello is now having second thoughts, but then his hesitant fingers are back, this time taking care not to press to lightly around his sides. His lower back is cleaner than his shoulders and neck area, but every rub through his top sends pleasure signals spiralling to his nerves and around his body. "Ahh. . ." sigh a little more vocal this time, Mello answers by pressing his palms and body down a touch harder, thighs trembling with having to hold up most of his weight for a long period of time.

". . N-Near."

"Hnn?"

"Um, I-"

"Ngh!"

A nerve or pressure point must have been pushed the right way- or maybe wrong way- because his body jerks almost violently, releasing such a large burst of endorphins Near is left slightly light headed and in mild shock at the automatic body response. "That's supposed to happen," Mello reassures him, voice and laughter slightly breathless. "I think I should stop anyway."

As the happy fuzz clears, the logical side of his brain kicks starts again.

"Why? Because you just became hard, Mello? I wouldn't feel too bad, anyone else in your position would have too."

Not expecting such a crude- could even be considered egotistical - sentence to come out of the teenagers mouth, Mello's brows lift. He composes himself. "What are you planning to do about it, brat?" because it is slightly mortifying to realise that simply touching another back can turn you on, though he will factor Near's noises and squirms into the equation so he doesn't feel _quite_ as bad.

Near considers, fighting the urge to pull out one of his hands and fiddle with a hair strand. Still buzzing slightly, and well, it can't hurt, can it, Near answers. "How does the saying go- if you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

Blinking slowly, the boy is certainly surprising him today, Mello lifts his weight off of Near, letting him turn over and push his jacket out of the way. As Near starts to scoot backwards, Mello quickly plants his hands on his chest, shoving him back down. "Careful what you promise to, Near," he smirks, easily straddling Near's chest, belt buckle an inch or so away from Near's nose.

Near discovers it's impossibly hard to unbuckle another person's belt. It takes a good few seconds of frowning to get the gothic style buckle undone.

Leaving it in the leather loops of his pants, Near leans in, using his teeth, and pulls sharply on the cords which stand in for where a zipper would normally go. He's surprised to see that Mello is still in very much in control of himself, face only slightly flushed and eyes heading towards a dazed look are really the only give aways.

"Nnh, don't have all day," Mello growls in an octave lower than his normal tone. Oh, but he does, Near thinks, brushing his finger tips across Mello's hipbone, the flat plate of his stomach and at last his roaming fingertips slip under all that leather to grab Mello's erection and jerk not at all gently. "Uun, not one of your fucking _toys_, Near. Limbs aren't made from plastic."

Near just marvels at how they can still find any opportunity to fight, even during sex.

Completely lacking experience, but knowledge quite broad on the matter, he really just feels his way through it.

Slowly, Near licks across the head of his erection, then down the hard length, opening his mouth to gently suck, taking in Mello's previous grumble about being too rough. He supposes it makes sense. It might feel solid, but it's still just as sensitive as any other part of the body.

It would be easier if he had an oral fixation. It would also be easier if he wasn't practically flat on his back. Lazily, Near runs his fingers up the exposed part of Mello's back, finding burn marks there too, feeling almost cat-like purrs rumbling up from his spin.

"A-ahh.. ku," at the lustful groan, Near glances up into the man's quickly flushing face, eyes meeting briefly before Mello looks away with an almost guilty look. The boy supposes it's a mixture of taking advantage of the situation- of him- or for showing human emotions towards this rival since Wammy's.

Near pulls back, the desire to breath properly becomes over bearing, letting saliva dribbling down his chin. Recalling Mello's actions with his chocolate, Near struggles to lift his head up further, each time he laps, sucks or nips down, he inwardly smiles at the gradually building pants and moans from above, fingers desperate in his hair. They don't stay there for long. Putting them on the tiles, Mello lifts his shivering weight angling his hips down, and this position is so much better. Teeth gritted, Near can sense the strain of not rocking in is causing him, sincerely thankful for the control as being thrown into the deep end without a rubber tube is daunting enough.

Rather nastily, Near drags the ridges of his teeth down, pulling at the taunt skin, grunting as Mello digs his nails into his scale and cries out in surprise. "Ahhg! Nng, that w-was. . ." any number of insults would have been issued if Near hadn't repeated his action, pressing down harder, eyes black and wicked.

Mello is right. He certainly isn't a toy. He is much more fun to play with than any toy Near has ever owned.

There is a tautness to Mello's actions now, breath fast and shallow, Near misses nothing, immediately jerking his head backwards as he feel Mello's thighs tighten around his ribcage and hiss in stifled down pleasure as he comes. Messily, Near winces as he is struck on the right cheek, managing to avoid it going through his hair and down his neck. The tiles take the worst of the damage as planned.

Self consciously, Mello lifts one arm to brush at his hot face, flicking back his golden hair to stall further. Breathing slowly down. Fully removing his weight from Near's chest, he lifts the boy up, apologetically running his tongue across his sticky cheek, pausing to nip at his ear and breath in his refreshing scent. As he rubs against the side of his face, Near can feel the odd sensation of his scars pressing on his own unflawed skin. He wants to touch them further, see the extent of the injury, he wants to-

"Hmn, Mello?"

"Hm?"

"Pay me back," he orders softly, moving his arms so his hands rest lightly on Mello's hips, rubbing his thumbs over and over the smooth leather. Mello draws back slightly, face a picture of blankness. "I want you to kiss me," must he spell it out?

A look of uncertainty crosses his face, clearly thinking that sex is fine, it's good and detached and you can stand up and walk away after it done, while kissing means something else_ entirely_.

Frowning, Near doesn't want to wait for him to sort out his dilemma, lifting his arms higher, wrapping them about his neck and moves them closer together until Mello's crucifix jabs into his chest. "Mello," he breathes, not begs, voice just edging on affectionate exasperation.

With a nervous blink, Mello gingerly tips his head like a pouting puppy, touching his lips to Nears as if tasting poison. It's really quite pathetic. "Satisfied?" he murmurs, pulling back to glare at Near with dark eyes. Not in the slightest, he pouts, wriggling himself further into Mello and leans in hopefully. He's never kissed a person, and is certainly curious about it.

Sighing slightly, Mello kisses him again, clutching at the back of his pyjama top and slipping his tongue out to lick at Near's bottom lip. "Mm," humming slightly, Near allows that wet tongue to be replaced by teeth as Mello softly bites down. Before he can become frustrated at his lack of reaction, Near parts his lips, letting Mello further use him as a human chocolate bar, lazily touching his own tongue back to get a pleased rumbled in answer.

"Ahh.. ngg," the white haired boy pinches his fingers against the thick material on Mello's shoulder, languidly rocking himself on his thigh, face heating up as Mello breaks off the kiss with a wet choking sound, clearly forgetting his sterile rival is still human under his baggy top and pants.

"Near. ."

"Haa, yes?"

"Do you, um," clearly the words _want me to jerk you off_ are far to blunt to spit out. Near smiles faintly, gently flicking his fingers across Mello's ill cut fringe, running them fully into his blonde hair the further down his parting he gets. Mello always did get easily flustered.

To reassure him, Near nuzzles his cheek and nose against his neck, slipping his tongue out to experimentally lap at his clavicle. When he doesn't get a response to the innocent touch, he licks again, more firmly, then grazes his teeth down. "Aah."

As Mello's lips part , he leans up to press his own against his, metaphorically swallowing the surprised grunt he gets. Mm, he much rather use his mouth for kissing than sucking his dick.

Taking one of Mello's hands in his own, he moves it to the front of his pants. Despite knowing what he's doing, the ripple of pleasure still makes him moan and pull back from Mello's mouth. If anything, Mello is looking just as surprised. "H-haa, you don't have to," it doesn't come out half as convincing than it had been in his head.

Mello opens his mouth to blurt something unintelligent out, but Near stops his words with a swift kiss. "Mello. You haven't realised yet, have you?" Near says in a hoarse whisper, eyes darting over Mello's shoulder to look at something. Confused, Mello tries to follow his gaze. "The cameras."

His grip tightens on Mello as the blonde swears, struggling to sit up and break away. Quite possibly experiencing the swiftest turn off in his life. "Y-you!"

"Rester and Hal have been banging on the door for quite a while now," he grins, shoving Mello to the cold tiled floor. With the lack of moans and pants, there is a clear _thump thump thump_ coming from the other side of the closed doors. "What must they think of you, Mello?"

"You fucker! I wondered why you were so damn complaisant!" Mello snarls, struggling to throw the surprisingly strong detective off.

"It will take Gevanni some time to hack into the door's locks. So we've plenty of time to spare. I daresay you won't want to make your endearing escape right now with those three outside."

"H-hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

A gasp of outrage.

"Come on, Near. Th-that's. . aahh, stop it!"

A grin of triumph.

* * *

**END**


End file.
